One Way To Pay A Bill (grace, grace, Roman)

[Sunstone]

I would rather sit beside evening waters,
Feeling air lift across my arm like lips,
Smelling moisture that could be breath
From one who comes near enough to care

Than go late into a restaurant
Where air is still as dust in a corner
And light twists through incandescence,
Malnourished, to strike at shadow with a rag.

Although if I told you this
You'd accuse me of disregarding now and forever
Your right to stay up until four with your tea;

Then some weeks later you'd accuse:
I lacked an enthusiasm for sunsets
Which deprives you of romance --

"Since I have a monopoly on your heart",
You'd say.

I've lived with you and noticed
When your heart flicks on, "I love you",
It sends a bill for the energy used,
Which it feels seldom is paid for gracefully
Or on time.

I've willed for your light in the absent sun,
But shouldn't your heart account in its books
The warmth you've taken, now and then,
From burning my poems?